


Do the Evolution

by killerkitty15



Series: Always [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Parenting, Coming of Age, Cultural Differences, Eventual Smut, F/M, Jealousy, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Loki (Marvel)-centric, M/M, Magic, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Miscommunication, Mpreg, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Original Character(s), Out of Character, Political Alliances, Pseudo-Incest, Racism, Rating May Change, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Shapeshifting, Teenage Rebellion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-02-13 05:19:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12976851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killerkitty15/pseuds/killerkitty15
Summary: A series of moments in Loki's life that would shape his future.How did he come to live in Asgard? Did he always love Thor in a not so familial way? How did he realize he wasn't an Asgardian? And how did he get so many children?Based on my other Thor/Loki story





	1. Age: 1 Year

When Frigga stepped foot in Jötunheim, the aftereffects of war were obvious; though she had fought many battles, she was a mother now, and the absolute destruction in the snowy tundra -blood heavily scenting the air- hit her harder than it would have. Her guards and select handmaidens joined her as one of her husband’s men led them to what used to be the palace of Jötunheim’s king.

“Frigga, my beautiful Queen!” Odin welcomed, taking her hands and kissing the backs of them (a move that never failed to soften Frigga’s chest with fondness). The war had left him looking older -she had a vision of him in the future, worn and haggard from politics and war (he wanted to conquer and control all Nine Realms, though he’d fail), but that was in years to come- but he still held that boyish, enthusiastic grin that was one of the many reasons Frigga had fallen for this powerful man (even though their marriage was arranged -a political move by their fathers- Frigga did love him). “I must have you in these meetings for Jötunheim’s surrender. I trust your Sight and judgement in negotiations.”

“Finally, my darling husband has realized when he must admit his faults and rely on his wife,” she jested, making her handmaidens titter and blush as Frigga kissed the Alpha’s frown. “Can you spare a man to escort my maidens to their rooms while you lead me to the Jötuns?”

“These peace talks are simply to avoid setting up Asgardian governments. None of our dignitaries or nobles will care for the climate.”

“Are you certain it has nothing to do with the fact they could get crushed underfoot by their own subjects?” she teased, looking up at the tall, high vaulted ceilings, halls and architecture, obvious made and designed for frost giants.

“I’d imagine that may have an effect… do not dare admit that to anyone,” Odin said, pushing the large door effortlessly and, inside, sat Odin’s most trusted men -his advisors and a few generals- and Jötuns hardened from living in an arctic tundra and years of fighting wars, many of which were with Asgard. “This is my wife, my queen” -he pulled his lips back in a snarl as he threatened- “disrespect towards her shall _not_ be tolerated.”

The Jötuns did not move or verbally acknowledge her; instead, they tilted their heads up, nostrils flaring as they scented the air, obviously trying to figure out her second sex. Although the Asgardians in the room looked disgusted -in Asgard it was an insanely rude gesture- Frigga simply cocked her head confidently, not ashamed of her second sex as she had been in her youth. Yes, she was an Omega, could bear children, but she was also a Seer, a sorceress, a Queen, and a feared warrior.

The middle aged, tallest of the Jötuns stood and bowed low. “Apologies, Queen of Asgard. We are not used to your ways and have not seen the benefit of learning them.”

“And what about them has confused you now?”

“Omegas are held in high regard in Jötunheim -children are important given our environment” another spoke, the less… _political_ of the trio, Frigga guessed with his blunt phrasing, “We are simply unused to an Omega receiving a secondary seat of power.”

“I assure you, it is in title only,” she joked, earning chuckles from the Jötuns, “Now, let us discuss your terms of surrender. My lord-husband has informed me that there is some objection.”

“Your Majesty, the Jötuns have been adamant in refusing peace!” one general snarled, sneering across the table, “As expected of their _kind…”_

“I have no interest in your bigotry,” she said, easily raising her voice over the Jötuns’ growling.

“A-Allfather, your Majesty-!”

“Leave her be. You have not been able to bring these debates to a close -let your Queen _speak_ or I will have you removed.”

A tense silence settled over the Asgardians, much to the Jötuns’ pleasure. “We will surrender to Asgard and agree to all aforementioned stipulations…. On one condition,” the third Jötun spoke, older than the other two by _years_ , “but you must agree to it before knowing what it is.”

“...Do you see, your Majesty? This is the _heart_ of the issue-.”

“We shall agree to these terms,” Frigga said after silent contemplation, raising her hand to silence her husband’s men, “We have a successful surrender. Now… about this mysterious stipulation…”

“Please, your Majesty, follow us.”

The Jötuns led Frigga out of the room -not waiting for Odin who yelled orders at his men -but dutifully made sure the female Omega did not get lost or injured by the Jötun palace falling apart around them. “As you know, our realm is ruled by King Laufey and his mate, Farbauti,” the youngest and bluntest of them informed, slowing his stride to respectfully make eye contact with the golden Omega Queen, “In one of the battles, King Farbauti was slain… he had been leading our forces.”

“I’m sorry for your loss. And your King’s,” she said sorrowfully, her heart clenching painfully, “Losing your mate… is such a horrible thing. I have seen many driven mad by grief.”

“Our King Laufey is strong,” he said, puffing out his chest as if boasting, “While he was not unaffected, he set aside his feelings selflessly for his people. He was vicious, took many lives, and brought great pride to his family and the memory of his mate.”

“We are here,” the elderly Jötun said and Frigga suddenly realized they were in the private living quarters of the Jötun royalty. King Laufey. “We will leave the two of you to speak with the King.”

She let Odin open the door for her, watching  his back muscles move. He could have fallen in battle, too. It was not the first time Frigga had realized or stressed over this but, now that she had three year old thor and was not fighting for her Alpha or at his side, her worry had only doubled. Luckily, Thor burned up all her energy during the day and saved her from sleepless nights in an empty bed. Once inside, the Omega caught her husband’s hand, tightening her hold. Odin squeezed back and smiled at her reassuringly, though he had no idea what had her so worried.

“King Laufey, we have settled the matter of your surrender,” Odin said loudly, keeping his wife close as he crept further into the room, “What is this term of yours?”

“Lower your voice, Asgardian,” Laufey appeared from behind another door looking tired and resigned, “I just got him to sleep.”

“Him…?” Frigga’s eyes widened as she suddenly noticed his hand cupped around a small bundle of furs, a tiny blue hand peeking out and curling around Laufey’s much larger finger. “A baby…”

“My son… Loki…” Laufey said and, although Frigga did not doubt that he was a feared ruler, animalistic in battle, his face and voice were gentle -soft- filled with pure, strong love, “He was born sick and weak, as some Jötun babes are. That is why he is so small. About the size of an Asgardian child.”

“I wish,” Frigga said with a small giggle and a nostalgic smile, “Our Thor was larger than average. Almost ripped me in half on the way out.”

“Helblindi, my eldest, was like that,” Laufey smiled as the infant in his arms cooed -he shifted the infant to the crook of his neck and began to hum. Oh, that look in his eye… Frigga knew that look too well.

“Your Majesty, may I smell you?”

_“Frigga!”_

“You may,” he said with a knowing smile before turning to Odin, “Do not worry, Allfather. On Jötunheim, sniffing for someone’s second sex is not seen as crass or rude.”

Frigga stepped closer and inhaled; he smelled of blood, iron, snow, but -beneath that- was the sweet, cloying scent that allowed any of all races to identify his second sex and biology. Her eyes widened despite herself, “You’re an Omega…” His scent did not lie, despite his intimidating height, his well muscled (on display) body and his aura of tightly controlled rage. It was not surprising that Frigga did not peg him as an Omega, on Asgard, male Omegas were few and far between -not to mention usually kept in hidden away, their second sex kept a secret from society until they could be married off and mated

“But… you are a king,” Odin said, speaking thoughtlessly in his disbelief.

Laufey scowled, lip turning up in a sneer. “Unlike you Asgardians, Jötuns value an Omega’s role. As caregivers, the bearers of children -it is only natural that an Omega is in the role of ruler, a protector and caregiver to the people,” he explained in an even tone and -despite his clear irritation -it sounded as if he were explaining something simple to a young child.  Frigga did not step between them, too entranced by the small, blue limbs peeking out from the furs. It was not long ago that Thor had been that age, so ..small. _How I miss him…_ “Would you like to take a closer look, Your Grace?” Laufey asked suddenly, his expression kind on the queen, “You can even hold him.”

“I… If I may…?”

“Please.”

Carefully, Frigga took the delicate babe in her arms, her gloved hands tightening around the thick bundle of furs and making sure there were no parts of him left uncovered. He was small with round cheeks, a small nose, doe like, red eyes and a thick head of black hair; he blinked up at the woman, eyes widening at her tan skin and golden hair, babbling at her curiously. “Aren’t you precious…” Frigga cooed sweetly, making the babe squeal and wiggle in response.

“Even though he is weak physically, he makes up for it in intelligence,” Laufey boasted, eyes on the Asgardian queen and his son, “Some of our sorcerers even believe there is magic in him. An extraordinary amount, perhaps… though it is only speculation.”

“I do not doubt it…” she said, slipping a finger into his palm. Even through her leather glove, she could feel magic coursing through his small body. As it did hers. “I am a sorceress and a seer… I can feel the magic waiting to be unleashed.”

“What are the conditions of your surrender, Laufey?”

The Jötun did not look at Odin, merely leaning back in his chair and sighing. “Take Loki back to Asgard with you. Raise him. Teach him how to harness his magic,” Laufey said, defeated and clearly heartbroken, “and how to be a good man.”

“What? Why?”

“You will impose your rule on us, your laws, and will expect us to obey. When you leave, there will be more war; my people will fight amongst themselves and against me. They will try to overthrow me…” he said matter-a-factly, “I have many who are loyal to me, my eldest sons who have positions in my army, the respect of their men, and devotion to not only me, but their Father’s memory. There is no doubt in my mind that I will overcome these obstacles, but how long might that take? Loki… is unlikely to survive if he stays.” Placing a hand over his mouth, blinking back tears, Laufey looked at Frigga. Beseeching. “Asgard is a place of eternal spring and he is sure to flourish there. I… just want my final child to live.”

“Your final child?”

“With my mate, Farbauti, gone… I shall not take another. Not as a life partner and, as of now, not as a bed partner.”

“We will take him,” Frigga said quickly, before her husband had time to object, “We will raise him as if he were our own son.”

“Wait, Frigga-.”

“He cannot go looking like a Jötun,” Laufey quickly said, eyes feverish -hope, happiness, relief, slipping across his features- “Is there a way you can alter his appearance?”

_“Frigga-.”_

“There is a spell… but it will not last forever,” Frigga said before turning to glare at her husband, “Do not go back on this agreement. He is just a babe, Odin. He is _helpless.”_

“What shall you do about Thor then?”  

“I will introduce Loki as his brother,” Frigga answered easily, waving a hand over the Jötun infant’s form, magic tingling between the joints of her fingers; her gold colored magic slid over him and he babbled, trying to grab at it.

“You expect him to believe this is his blood brother when you appear out of thin air with a child as old as this one?”

“He will believe it because I am his mother,” she said, her voice so firm with certainty that it made it impossible for Odin to argue. She turned to Laufey with a gentle, reassuring expression and gestured to his son, “What do you think?”

Laufey watched as the blue receded from his son’s skin, replaced by pale alabaster, his Jötun markings fading into nothingness and his red eyes being swallowed by a bright, emerald green. Only his black hair and frame remained unchanged. The Omega’s eyes watered, his chest heavy; though he admired Frigga’s skill -she was clearly a powerful sorceress and would make an excellent teacher for Loki -he felt worse than he did when his Alpha was slain. The child in front of him did not look like his son. “You are talented.”

The Asgardian queen could smell the sorrow hanging heavily in King Laufey’s scent, could see his skin pale and the cloud that swept over his eyes, and her own heart grew heavy empathetically. He had lost his mate and now his child. So many pieces were being chiseled out of him. For the first time, Frigga touched the Jötun; it was her first time touching any Jötun in such a nonviolent  way -not counting Loki -and she was surprised at how warm the frost giant was. “I swear to you,” she promised seriously, “that I will love your son as if he were mine. He will know love and want for nothing.”

He smiled sadly, leaning close to whisper, “You are not the one I doubt, Your Grace.”

* * *

Thor shifted in his seat, unable to focus on his tutor, who was going over letters. When would he need to know how to _spell?_ He wanted to fight monsters and save princesses!

“Pardon my intrusion,” a servant -a pretty girl with lots of freckles and hair the color of a strawberry -said as she entered the classroom and bowed, “the Queen has returned and would like Thor to accompany her in her gardens.”

The tutored sighed, obviously exhausted by Thor’s lack of attention, and quickly dismissed the prince, who ran towards the door, grabbing the servant’s skirt and _pulling._ She tried to slow him down but he didn’t listen (unless they were Mama or Father, Thor didn’t think listening was important because he didn’t _have_ to… he was a _prince)_ and eventually the servant gave up, only trying to lead him to where his mother was waiting. When they found her, she was sitting in the grass, butterflies fluttering around -and sometimes landing in- her loose blonde hair and her long, green dress pooled around where she sat. Thor was struck by how pretty his Mama was (the _prettiest)_ and he ran at her with a joyous cry; she had been gone too long and he had missed playing with her and being sang to at bedtime and everything because only his Mama could do all those things perfectly. He jumped on her back, hugging her around the neck and was happy that she laughed, pulling him against her side and pressing kisses all over his face. “Hello, my son.”

“Welcome back home, Mama!” Thor greeted excitedly, cuddling up to her, “Did you have fun on your trip? Did you save any princesses?”

“No, no princesses,” she said with a smile, “but I do want to introduce you to someone. Your baby brother.”

It was only then that Thor noticed the barely dressed baby sitting in his Mama’s lap, lounging back against her chest, one hand half in his mouth and the other trying to grab at the butterflies and sun beams. “Baby brother?” Thor asked, scrunching up his face in confusion, “What does he _do?”_

“Nothing yet. Loki is just a baby,” Frigga explained, tickling his chubby pale tummy which made Loki giggle, “We have to teach him lots of things and protect him.”

At that, the blonde boy’s head perked up, “Protect him? Like, from monsters and bad guys?”

“Exactly.”

Thor “ooh”-ed, bending down to get closer to the baby’s face. “Hi, Loki. I’m your big brother Thor.” Loki’s eyes snapped to the blonde, almost like he was sizing Thor up, before he removed the hand in his mouth -smearing his saliva all over his belly -babbling and making grabby motions at Thor’s face. “Mama, I think Loki wants me to hold him,” the older boy said and Loki moved in what looked like a full body nod, making a sound that sounded like “yah” or “yes”. 

“Alright. Just be careful. _Gentle.”_

Frigga helped position Loki in Thor’s arms, though the blonde felt it better he wrap his arms around Loki’s torso and hold the one year old against his chest, so they were face to face. “Loki, I’m your big brother so that means I’m going to look after you and protect you, ‘kay?” Thor said seriously, despite the small hands that rose to rest on his cheeks, pinching them, “We’re… uhm… com-comrades, so we have to stick together forever.” 

Loki squealed happily, squishing the blonde’s cheeks and doing that full body nod before rubbing his face on Thor’s, a clumsy and a tad painful version of a nuzzle. The action made Thor feel all warm and fuzzy, and he was overcome with a feeling he didn’t really understand; Thor wanted to protect Loki from all the bad guys forever and give him all the treasure and  _ everything! _ Even though Thor didn’t understand, he was too young to overthink his feelings. He labeled them “All the Love in the World that I Have for My Brother” and kissed Loki’s round, pink cheeks. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It should be noted that this will contain elements from the movie Thor and the Avengers movie but not Ragnarok or Dark Worlds.   
> Its Omegaverse so I am going to adjust some plot points to fit my AU better.   
> Also: I am combining it with mythology because goddamn it I do what I want.


	2. Age: 2 Years

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you have noticed the rating has changed
> 
> Additionally: there will be mentions of Frigga x Odin but nothing too graphic... the graphic stuff comes when Loki reaches maturity and starts having sex and having babies (wink wonk, hint hint)

The last time Frigga went into Heat was before Thor was born and, really, she should have had another sooner. She didn’t know if it was just because she was a few centuries old or that caring for Loki had convinced her body to put such biological imperatives on hold, as if she really had born a second child. Either way, it took her a moment to understand the signs and her body’s warnings. 

As it was, Loki had recently began to walk, becoming a little terror; the only thing that would halt him for a significant amount of time was when Frigga would turn her magic into twisting shapes and glowing animals. That and Odin, but he was always so busy with his kingly duties.

It started as an ache in her back, which she brushed off; she had thought she had strained something as she was lifting Loki up on her feet, rocking into into the air. Next, she experienced cramping in her abdomen, a pain unlike any she experienced in battle, that lingered in a way that made it seem like it would never fade; this caused an small twitch of recognition but she thought it was just due to something she ate (perhaps something had disagreed with her? She had heard from plenty of the elders who claimed that such things happened as one got older). Realization did not fully set in until she began to get the restless feeling beneath her skin, the feeling that she had to be moving, had to be doing something important, she just didn’t know what; she wanted to fluff her pillows and the change out the sheets and furs that covered her bed, wanted the entire palace cleaned in a certain way, burn specific herbs in certain rooms and she just wanted everything done her way. The feeling only meant one thing.

“Mama smells!” Loki said, cementing her belief that -yes- she was in Heat and -yes- it was an inconvenient time.

“Skaði!” she called and the servant arrived quickly, “Where is Thor?”

“He is in his lessons, Your Majesty.”

“I need you to tell the Allfather that my Heat will be upon me shortly,” Frigga said as calmly as she was able, another wave of cramps jumbling up her insides, “and take Loki with you. He will be under your care for the next few days.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the older woman said with a quick curtsey, picking up Loki with a small coo, “Hello, my little prince. Shall we arrange a gift for your big brother?”

“Gift?” Loki said curiously, tightening his fists in the fabric of her bodice; he had seen her with Thor and had took a liking to her immediately, but he was still unsure about leaving his Mama. Especially when her smell was different than it usually was.

“Yes. Do you want to color?”

“Yes!”

Frigga couldn’t help but to smile at the easy way that her youngest easily captured the heart and attention of all those he deemed worthy. Hesitantly, she rose to her feet from where she was kneeling in her garden, wiping the soil from her hands onto the front of her dress. The muscles in her thighs were twitching with the strain and she twisted her fingers into the skirt of her dress to stave off the pain of a twisting cramp. She huffed, the ache in her back increasing as she struggled to her chambers, unwilling to cast any sort of magic when she was in such an unstable position biologically. By the time she had made it halfway to her room, her forehead was beaded in sweat, her muscles twitching in spasms and she felt slick wetting her thighs, not yet at the point of embarrassing seepage but surely and steadily getting there. She huffed, grinding her jaw as a guard walked by and she inhaled his very Alpha scent; though she felt no arousal for any Alpha that was not her mate, his scent was pleasing enough.

“Good sir,” she panted, watching with no small amount of satisfaction as his nostrils flared and his pupils dilated with arousal, not enough to cause debilitating loss of judgement but enough, “Will you help me to my chambers?”

“I… Your Majesty…”

“Please… My muscles ache too much to go on…” Frigga muttered, sliding down the wall, “Please, my mate will be arriving shortly…”

“I… alright,” the young guard said, slipping his arm -hesitantly- around Frigga’s waist and supporting her wait as they walked to her bedchambers. “I… Is this alright, Your Majesty?”

_ “Fine,” _ she said curtly, digging her fingers into the space beneath his armor, “Thankfully you walked by… I may not have been able to make it to my rooms.”

“I would not abandon my Queen, Your Majesty.”

“You should have,” the growl sent a thrill of pleasure shooting down her spine and she gasped, her thighs getting coated with a heavier layer of slick, “If I were you, I would release her before I lose control of my fragile self control.”

Frigga had to fight to remain on her feet as the guard quickly released her and retreated. She braced herself against the wall, her eyes narrowed on the imposing, threatening, possessive, arousing figure of her mate. The Queen lurched forward, entirely focused on getting her hands on her mate; Odin’s hands landed on her elbows before sliding around to rest on her back and holding her to his chest. She moaned, planting her face in his neck and trailing kisses along his bearded jaw. “My love, my mate, please.”

“Frigga, my beautiful Queen, I will always be here to protect you.”

She whimpered, feeling safe and wanted. Her head full of Odin, her mate, and before she knew it they were in their room, both of them naked -the air cooled her overheated skin- and the Alpha was trailing kisses on every stretch of bare skin that he could reach. Her Heat was reaching its appex, growing stronger by the second, when she heard the sound of yelling coming from the hallway.

“W-Wait, Odin, wait-.”

_ "Mama!” _ Loki called, bursting into the room with several pieces of paper in his hands.

Frigga quickly pushed the Alpha to the side, pulling their furs and sheets over their naked bodies. “Loki, darling!” she gasped, pushing her sweaty, lose hair out of her face, “Did Skaði not take you?”

“Yes! Loki colored!”

“Oh, darling, how lovely,” the Omega said even as Loki teetered over and tried to climb up on their bed, “but will you not play with Skaði?”

"No! Mama! Loki wants Mama!”

Odin growled from where he rested by her side and the Omega elbowed him in the ribs, feeling her Heat subside the smallest bit. In response to his father’s growl, Loki whimpered before bursting into ugly sobs.

Frigga’s Heat faded into the background as her stronger maternal instinct kicked in and she wrapped her sheets around her naked body, scooping Loki up into her arms; she hummed and rocked him until he stuck his thumb in his mouth, becoming a quiet mess. “My darling, are you feeling better now?”

Loki nodded.

"Will you go to Skaði, now, Loki?” the Allfather growled into the fabric of the pillow.

“No!” he whined, his sadness growing into petulance and Frigga cast a glare in her mate’s direction, “Loki wants Mama! Mama only!”

“What about Thor?” Frigga cut in before the Alpha could say something else that would upset their youngest, “Oh, when he hears how you rather spend time with me, he will be so upset! I bet he will be so sad…”

“Oh, no!” Loki gasped, scrambling out of his mother’s hold and teetering over to the chamber door, “Skaði, Skaði! Loki wanna see big brother! Wanna see Thor!”

Frigga laughed breathily, pain and desperation spiking once her youngest boy was out of the room. She gasped, sliding back onto the bed and rolling on top of her Alpha and kissing his scarred back. “Do not dare growl at our son again,” she said with sudden viciousness, dragging her nails down his back and sinking her teeth in his shoulders. Odin growled at her, but she ignored him.

_ “Fine. _ I apologize,” he said with a snap of his jaws, flipping her onto her back even as she sunk her nails into his chest, baring her teeth, “Let me soothe the pain of your Heat, my love.”

“As long as you acknowledge what a privilege it is,” the Omega teased with a shiver of arousal, pulling his hair until he fell onto her body. Her Heat would be over quicker than it usually was -she felt it in the core of her being- and when it was, she would go to Loki and show him a bit of the magic that he loved so much. She would even read him an extra story before bedtime.

For the moment, however, she was an unfortunate slave to her body’s needs.


	3. Age: 3 Years

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It should be noted that the ages are just to show (roughly) the mental/physical/emotional level of development at the time. In this AU (because I'm taking artistic liberties so fight me) on Asgard, time passes differently.

Loki struggled, twisting his tiny body away from the towel and running, naked, to the other side of Mama’s bedroom. “Loki!” she scolded, replacing her towel with a robe the color of peacocks, “Let them dry you off.”

“No!” Loki said, eying a handmaiden warily and shaking out his wet hair like a dog (the spray hit several of Mama’s cats, who yowled in displeasure, and the three year old quickly -sweetly- apologized). “Thor said I do not have to listen to the servants.”

“Oh, and did he tell you not to listen to me?”

He balked, “No, Mama! ‘Course not!”

Mama raised her eyebrows, not paying attention to the handmaidens milling around her, waiting, fluttering. “And I am telling you, as your Mama, to listen to them, love. They just want to help. Now apologize.”

Loki couldn’t look the servant in the eyes, shifting his feet in embarrassment and shame. He didn’t want to make Mama upset and hurt the servants’ feelings; he just wanted to be like his big brother… “I am sorry, Skaði. I will be a good boy now.”

Skaði, a servant who originally cared for Thor -Frigga had insisted on doing a lot of the work herself but, occasionally, Skaði took care of them when Mama was tired in addition to cleaning their rooms -but had been put in charge of Loki since… the beginning, blinked at the dark haired prince owlishly; she doubted Thor had known her name at this age. She bent down and smiled when the prince tentatively made eye contact. “Thank you, my lord,” she said, wrapping him in a towel, “I only wish to dry you so you do not catch a chill.”

Loki scrubbed his face with his tiny fist, looking contrite and apologetic, absolutely adorable, but he smiled and said “ok” in his quietest, cutest voice and surrendered himself to Skaði, who took extra care to be gentle when drying him.

“Such a good boy, Loki,” Mama easily praised, even as she was tugged this way and that by her handmaidens, “We have to look nice for your papa and brother. This party is for them.”

“...Because Papa took Thor on an adventure for the first time?”

“Right.”

“...Mama, why could I not go with?” Loki pouted, stepping into his underthings.

“You are too young.”

“That s'not fair!” he whined, the pout taking over his entire face, Skaði’s brushing of his hair doing little to tone down how upset he was, “I wanna go exploring with Thor and Papa. _And_ by myself! ‘Cause I am a big boy, right?”

“Not big enough to go out on your own… but, when you are Thor’s age, Papa will definitely take you on a special adventure for just the two of you.”

Loki smiled and giggled, mind racing with the possibilities. “Should we go greet our boys, darling?”

“Yes, Mama.”

* * *

At the feast, Odin and Thor were welcomed by rambunctious laughter, applause and music; the crown prince was hoisted up on his father’s shoulder, looking down at the people looking up and cheering for him (to Thor, it was a heady feeling, to be given so much attention… what a truly wonderful thing). Frigga was the first to approach them, Loki’s hand in hers as the crowd parted for them. She took Thor into her arms, kissing his warm cheek before she even looked at her mate, who itched to have her eyes on him and him alone. “Welcome back, my warriors,” she said, eyes warm on her mate even though she made no move towards him -Loki had heard Mama explain this to a recently mated Omega girl, how “delicious” it was to have her mate ensnared with “a look”, even after so many years, how wonderful and comforting it felt to have all his love directed towards her when she wanted it- “I assume your adventure went well?”

“Yes, Mama!” Thor said, oblivious as always to the atmosphere around him -especially in regards to his parents- and looked over her shoulder, down at his brother, “Loki, Loki, I had so much fun!”

His brother’s green eyes glittered in the light and the feeling of Loki’s eyes looking up at him was better than having _millions_ of people look at him. It made Thor feel warm and right, as if he could fly to the sun and touch it. “I missed you. I wanted to go, too,” Loki pouted even as the blonde pushed his way out of their Mama’s arms, jumping in front of him.

“It’s alright, Loki,” he said, affectionately petting his brother’s soft, black hair -there was no other hair like it in Asgard and it made Thor irrationally proud of his brother’s uniqueness- and cupping the back of Loki’s neck with a reassuring smile, “I missed you, too. I want you to come on the next one!”

“What did you do?”

“I’ll tell you all about it! I-.”

“Thor,” Father interrupted, apparently done making goo-goo eyes at their Mama, “I want to introduce you to a friend of the family and their daughter.”

The “friend of the family” was a greying, battle weary Alpha and his daughter could easily be mistaken for his grandchild -a young girl with golden ringlets, blue eyes and a charming smattering of freckles on her nose.

“Hello,” the five year old greeted as politely as possible, his hand still clutching Loki’s; he had felt the younger boy go rigid and knew Loki must have been feeling nervous around the strangers. At celebrations such as the current one, Loki was usually fine unless the guests -unknown or not remembered- tried to talk to him without their parents or his big brother. Still, Loki was always nervous in the beginning and his big brother always rushed to reassure Loki that all was well. “I am Thor, first prince of Asgard, and this is my little brother, Loki.”

“Hello, Your Majesties!’ she chirped cheerfully with a careful curtsey, “I am Alfhildr, second daughter of Agnarr and Björg.”

“I want you to spend time with her, my son,” Father said, clapping the blonde companionably on the shoulder -Thor had seen Father mimic the same motion when talking to his soldiers and felt his chest swell with pride at what _must have_ been an important task- “If you get along, it would make your mother and I very pleased.”

“Perhaps there will even be a wedding in the future,” Agnarr said with a hearty, belly laugh and Odin joined, though Thor did not particularly understand what the joke was. THey left Alfhildr with the two princes, who only stared at her in quiet confusion.

“Um, so Prince Thor, I hear you just went on your first quest with His Majesty,” the little girl said, picking at the embroidery on her dress shyly, “Did you defeat any monsters? Did you have fun?”

At the reminder of why the feast was being held, Thor perked up instantly, smiling brightly and going into great (unnecessary) detail about what they did. He told of how he and Father had come across a creature in Nidavellir worthy of the hunt, taking down an aggressive, wild boar-like creature, bigger than the average boar with tusks shaped like the antlers of a deer. He was so enthralled with telling the details of the encounter, exaggerating the details as his fiver year old mind was wont to do, Thor didn’t notice his little brother tugging at his tunic and whimpering to try and get Thor’s attention.

At the sight of his big brother’s attention solely fixed on Alfhildr and not him, Loki felt something dark stir in his chest, quickly taking over his heart. Who did that girl think she was, demanding Thor’s attention so readily? As if she _deserved_ it… Thor was _Loki’s_ brother and all of the blonde’s attention should be on _him,_ not some gross little girl! No one took notice of Loki’s glowing green hands until the little girl was surrounded in a similar aura and she screamed.

“What is happening? Stop it! I want my Mama!”

The crowd began to panic, gathering around the children, Odin and Frigga trying to push through the throng of people and get to their children. Feeling the crowd’s distress, Loki Frantically tried to shake the green stuff off his hands; it flickered, until he noticed Thor trying to help Alfhildr and the green flared to life again, angry tears in his eyes. It was all her fault! That girl! If only she would just… _disappear._ In a flicker of light, she did just that. Disappear.

The girl’s mother screamed and, by the time Thor had turned to ask his little brother what was going on, the ravenette was gone.

* * *

 

Loki had been hiding in the alcove for what felt like forever, palace guards scrambling to find the missing girl and the prince. They had not found either, so Loki spent the time curled up and crying as softly as a boy his age was able.

“Ah, it looks like I have found myself a prince.”

The three year old looked up with wide, frightened eyes only to see one of the nobles from the feast; he had long, black hair in a side plait, dull green eyes fixed on him with a quiet intensity but -despite the fact that this man was a stranger- Loki was not afraid. The man seemed familiar somehow and, instinctively, Loki inhaled the man’s scent. He was not scolded for it, nor did the man react with offense; the man remained impassive, waiting for Loki’s conclusion. He smelled of nothing the ravenette had ever smelled before but, underneath, was the sweet scent Loki had come to recognize as OMEGA. “You’re an Omega!” the boy exclaimed, eyes widening; he had never seen a boy Omega up close before!

The man smiled, clearly amused, “Yes. I am an Omega, Your Majesty. What a keen nose you have.”

“My name is Loki…” he pouted and the Omega laughed.

“Alright. What a keen nose you have, Loki,” the man said, sitting close to him in the alcove, eyes soft, “Why have you hidden yourself? It seems terribly lonely.”

“I do not want to be by anybody! They… Everyone is mad at me!”

“Because of the Alfhildr girl?”

Loki nodded.

“Hm… I see. So you do not wish to face their anger? Their hurt?”

“I do not.”

The Omega ran a hand through Loki’s short, dark hair. His hands weren’t like the hands of typical Omegas. They were large and, although he caught the scent of creams, they were still dotted by blisters; Loki liked the feeling of them and wished his hair were longer so that the petting would last much longer.

“Where I come from, the land is covered in ice and few things grow plentiful,” he said thoughtfully and Loki curled up into his side, “I have often thought it a terribly lonely environment. A beautiful, terrible, lonely environment. But that means my people must rely on one another. Family is all you have when the very planet seeks to freeze your blood.”

“So… I should stop hiding?” Loki asked hesitantly, picking at the blue embroidery on the man’s tunic, “Because… Mama and Papa and Thor and everyone are worried?”

“I knew you were a smart boy!” the Omega praised, making Loki blush, “Shall I take you to them?”

“Only if you carry me.” The Omega laughed again, making Loki feel accomplished. The ravenette was placed on his shoulders, the feeling of the Omega’s warmth seeping into Loki’s body felt like coming home; he buried his face in the dark hair before him, the smell and feel like a lullabye he forgot long ago. “You never told me your name,” Loki pointed out even as his eyelids grew heavy, the sway of the man’s steps lulling him to sleep.

“...You can call me Fárbauti.”

“Fárbauti, I hope I can visit your home one day…” he said, trailing off as he fell into a peaceful slumber.

The Omega remained silent, holding the little prince close as he made his way through the palace, and using his strong sense of smell to find the Asgardian Queen.

Frigga was in her chambers, having finally gotten Thor to fall asleep after he kept on insisting he help find his brother. The poor boy was a wreck, face covered in snot and tears, refusing to leave the safe haven of his parents’ bed. She started at the gentle knock but rushed to open the door, hoping that it was her baby. The Queen did not expect to find a stranger at her door. One that looked remarkably similar to her son.

It could only be one. “Laufey?” she whispered, shocked by his Asgardian appearance; Frigga did not know he had magic.

“Good evening, Frigga,” he said, a touch remorseful, “I am sorry, I… I asked one of our elders that knew a bit of magic to enchant me only for the night. So I could see him once.”

The blonde nodded, welcoming him inside and gesturing for him to place Loki on her bed. “I suppose you saw what happened at the feast?”

“Indeed. Did you find the girl?”

“She was in my gardens… stuck in a tree.”

Laufey couldn’t help his chuckle and the Queen smiled in response. The humor was not lost on her. The Jotun slipped off his son’s shoes before tucking Loki beneath the covers, hands lingering if only so that he could remain touching his babe for a while longer. “There must be worse ways for one’s magic ability to appear.”

“Normally it takes a few more years but we should take this as a sign he is blessed by Yggdrasil,” Frigga said as the Jotun’s skin flashed from Asgardian pale to Jotun blue. “Laufey…”

“I… I... know. I shall take my leave,” he said, forcing himself to part from Loki’s side, “The first signs of violent discontent have appeared in Jotunheim. If I perish… I only wanted to see his face a moment more.”

“He is a lovely boy,” she said, aching to comfort the other Omega but sensing it wouldn’t be appreciated. After all, she would be the one sleeping beside Loki this night. It was she being called “Mama”. “He is loved, Laufey.”

“I do not doubt you, Queen of Asgard,” he paused, watching Thor grumble in his sleep before rolling over and wrapping his arms and legs around Loki; the toddler grumbled, fidgeting around before stilling with a sleepy huff, “by the looks of things, Loki is very much loved by you and your own.” One of Frigga’s cats jumped on the bed, taking her place by the three year old’s head and glaring at the stranger suspiciously. “And what of Odin?”

“He treats Loki as his own,” she said unhesitantly, although she wondered -briefly- if that was true. _No, it must be_ , the blonde rationalized, _I have seen softness in his eye when he looks at Loki. It must be._

Laufey gave her a knowing, dark look before he turned back to his son, reaching out again. He stopped short. Not because Frigga’s cat began to growl at him in warning -though she did- but because his skin shifted. If flashed Jotun blue for the briefest of seconds but Laufey noticed, curling his hand into a fist and yanking his hand away. “I must go,” the Omega whispered, voice full of despair; the enchantment was clearly wearing off, “Do not let harm come to him, Frigga. I… _please.”_

“Of course! He is- He is mine, now, too…” For a moment, she was worried that she crossed a line as Laufey’s expression ironed out into something carefully unreadable; the Queen subtly inhaled, trying to get some sort of understanding of what Laufey was feeling. His scent was… muddled. Complicated and conflicted.

Eventually, Laufey’s shoulders slumped and he smiled bitterly. “Yes, I know,” he said with a resigned sigh; the Jotun picked up her hand and rested his forehead against the knuckles -a gesture in Asgard for a royal Omega- “I bid you good evening, Your Majesty. I wish you and your sons” -his breath caught- “good health.”

“...And you yours,” Frigga replied, watching as the male Omega forced his back straight and darted out her bedroom door. She watched him walk down the corridor and turn the corner just as a guard came from the opposite end. “Good sir, go tell the Allfather that Prince Loki has been found and shall be spending the night in our chambers tonight.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” he bowed before scurrying off to do as she bid.

CLosing the door, Frigga began to the slow process of undressing, not wanting to call her handmaidens and cause commotion that would wake her boys (Loki, mainly. His brother slept like the dead).

“Mama?”

Well, speak of him and he shall appear. “Yes, my darling? Were you not just asleep?” Half undressed, she turned to find Thor sitting up in her bed, “Did you wake when your brother was set down?”

Groggily, Thor nodded. “Who was that man?”

“Ah… that was… a distant friend from a distant realm,” she said, slipping out of her gown at last and kicking it to the side to grab a simple night dress, “Why do you ask?”

“I did not like him,” Thor grumbled, petting the younger boy as one would a cat, “I did not like how he looked at Loki. As if he wanted to take him away.”

She did not know who her ached more for: Laufey, Loki or Thor. “Your brother is beloved,” Frigga tried to reassure but the older boy only looked more upset, “but no one shall take him from us. Loki is a piece of our heart and we always protect what is ours, do we not?”

“Promise?”

“Of course,” the Queen soothed, slipping in on the other side of Loki, reaching over to smooth Thor’s hair back and kiss his forehead, “Now sleep. I am sure your brother would feel nothing but joy at seeing you first thing.”

“Alright!” he said, satisfied as he settled into the furs, “Good night, Mama.”

“Good night, my darling.”


	4. Age: 4 Years

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I mentioned it in the beginning, but (just to reiterate) there is a 2 year (roughly) age difference between Thor and Loki. See the previous chapter notes for how the age thing works. Oh, and leave some comments if there's something specific you think I should address. 
> 
> I LOVE comments!

“Günther, you should not be so mean to the princess,” Loki quietly scolded his stuffed bear as he tucked it into its bed, located in a small, wooden house that Mama had taught him how to construct with magic, “Nerthus is only looking out for you. If you keep on eating so much, you will get fat and sick!”

“Loki, my darling, what are you doing?”

He looked up at the figure of Mama, who stood in the doorway to his room looking amused; the little boy wasn’t bothered, continuing to tuck in his bear as he used his magic to trot his toy horses, fly his wooden birds and walk his other toys around the small wooden house. “I am putting my bear to bed, Mama,” he informed her with a cheerful smile, smoothing down the fabric being used for the bear’s bed, “but he was a little bit upset.”

“Why is that?”

“His mate, Princess Nerthus, got mad at him because he was eating so much unhealthy food. She was just worried he was going to get fat and sick! But Günther the Great was _not_ impressed.”

“You know, it is not good for mates to get to bed angry at each other,” Frigga said with an amused chuckle, kneeling on the ground beside her son and plucking a wooden bird out of the air -it was clumsily painted and lopsided, the signature of Thor’s less than stellar woodworking skills- she twisted it between her fingers before sending it to rest, gently, on the shelf of one of Loki’s tall bookcases, which were already becoming filled with books on magic, geography, politics, fairy tales, folklore, plant biology, animal biology, and the nine realms. “If Papa and I have an argument, then we always make sure to talk about it and get it settled before we go to bed.”

“But you and Papa never fight!” he said with a giggle, patting his Mama’s hand reassuringly. She clearly forgot, but that was alright. “It is alright, though! Günther and Nerthus always make up in the end,” the ravenette punctuated his statement by making his bear -Günther the Great- and his butterfly -Princess Nerthus- plush toy kiss each other before tucking the Princess into bed next to the bear.

As he did so, Frigga began to pluck his other toys from the air and around the wooden house and place them in their corresponding locations, his bookcases or toy chest the two most common, with care. She knew how Loki liked to have things in a particular way and how upset he grew when things were out of place. “Are you ready to go to bed, my darling?”

“What about Thor?”

“He is already sound asleep. He is so tired from the hunt he went on with Papa.”

“When can I go?”

“Next year you will be old enough. Now, my little prince, let us get into bed.”

Frigga read him tales of the nine realms, of how the Norns carved the lives and destinies of children into Yggdrasil, the tree which connected all living things, all nine realms. She told of where the realms rested on Yggdrasil’s branches and the beings that occupied them -she skimmed over Jotunheim, unwilling to trigger any latent memories of his home world -and of the wars they had fought, together and against each other. Loki fell asleep as she painted the picture of Alfheim, a realm of light and beauty, of rolling hills and grasslands, flora and fauna that never wilted, rarely died, home of the elves, who danced, played music, and lived lives full of love that were rarely monogamous.

She slipped out after kissing his forehead and tucking him in, making sure to not make a sound. Loki was a light sleeper, after all.

At night, Asgard’s sky was similar to it was during the day; typically cloudless and clear, the cosmos visible against the dark backdrop of the night sky. But there were days that were considered “bad weather days” in Asgard; when round, fluffy clouds floated through the bright blue sky during the day -Loki liked to guess at what they looked like, his answers growing more ridiculous in time- and wispy, whispers of clouds at night. Or it would rain. The rain, of course, thrilled Thor to no end -he knew he would be able to control the elements with the help of Mjolnir and the rain and storms were his favorite part- and he would insist on playing in it, no matter what the severity was. Lighter rains or even heavier rainfalls were not necessarily considered “bad” -they helped grow the crops, kept bodies of water full and kept the air from being dry and stale- but storms, the loud claps of thunder and the bright flashes of lightning, were looked at with weariness. Shifts in weather signified a healthy planet, Asgardians knew this in theory, but the loud, brashness of the storm and the barbarity of it quickly jarred the average Asgardian as it was rather different than the typical atmosphere of Asgard.

That night it had started with a light rainfall until it eventually built up into a crescendo, pelting the windows and the sides of the palace. It only slightly stirred Loki from his slumber. What really had the boy shooting up in bed and letting out a startled yelp was the loud crack of thunder and the bright flash of lightning that seemed to shake the palace. It didn’t set in, what had woke him, and he sat in panicked confusion until it happened again: the lightning flooded the entire room with light and the thunder had Loki’s toys rattling in their places. More awake and more aware, the terror hit him full force and he screamed, his voice getting lost in the crack of thunder. The lightning came a second time -without the thunder- and Loki shot out of his bed, tripping on the rug, and rushed out of his room, running as quickly as he could out the door and down the hallway.

“Your Majesty? Prince Loki, what is wrong? Why are you running?” a guard asked and the boy skidded to a halt, whipping around to face the concerned face of the middle aged Beta.

“I… I…” he hiccuped, trying to find his words but they got caught in his throat. They continued to escape him as his eyes filled with tears, fear and frustration clouding up his mind, and he began to sob as he ran at the guards legs, wrapping his small arms around the guard’s armor covered calves. “The thunder is scary! I am- I-!”

“Are you scared, Prince Loki?”

He nodded, face covered in tears and snot, flinching and yelping as more thunder and lightning filled the palace. “I do _not_ like the noise…” he whispered once it had past, rubbing his face on the sleeves of his night clothes.

“I see,” the guard picked up the ravenette, resting the little boy on his hip and bouncing him slightly, as he did his own children. “Shall I take you to your Mama and Papa?”

Quickly, Loki shook his head. He didn’t want them to see him so sad and scared. He wanted them to think that he was brave, so that Mama would keep teaching him magic and Papa would take him on the next quest he went on with Thor. “N-No, I want… I want Thor,” Loki said, clinging to the guard tightly and, the more the ravenette thought about it, the better it seemed. Thor was always warm and comforting and was his protector. He was a brave warrior, now. “I want my big brother.”

“Alright, I will take you there,” the Beta said soothingly, holding the prince in one arm securely and his weapon hanging limply at his side, “Let me tell one of my colleges then I will take you.”

Loki nodded, trusting the guard to get him there. The guard was to protect him, too, so why shouldn’t he trust him? He rested his head on the guard’s armored shoulder, hiding in the man’s scruffy neck when the sound of the thunder and the flash of the lightning would be too much.

It seemed like forever, time passing so slowly, but eventually the guard dropped him off in front of his brother’s room, holding the door open for him so he could run in and scramble up onto his brother’s bigger, higher bed. “Thank you, sir!”

“It was a pleasure, Your Majesty…” he said, slowly closing the door and easing the room into complete darkness.

Once the door was closed, Loki wiggled his way beneath his big brother’s sheets and furs until he snuggled up against Thor’s side, nosing up beneath his chin. “Ngh… Loki? Wha…?” the blonde grumbled, the shifting and wiggling and, finally, the little body practically lying on top of him having woken him up from his deep slumber. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and the drool off his chin, blinking down at the bundled up, hidden lump that was his younger brother. “What s’happin’?”

“I… I…” The room erupted in the loud, unforgiving sights and sounds of the weather and it cut Loki off; he flinched, curling up into his big brother’s chest and whimpering out a broken, torn sound, the desperate muttering of Thor’s name.

“Loki?” Thor immediately sat up, curling around his brother’s trembling form, hands skirting over the younger boy’s body like his Father had taught him, searching for injury. Finding none, he wrapped his slightly larger body around his brother’s, trying to will him back to his normal, sweet, cheerful self. “What happened? You can tell your big brother, you know you can.”

“I… I do not like it. The thunder and lightning… it scares me,” he sniffled, wiping his nose on Thor’s bed sheets but the older boy didn’t mind.

“Ah, everything is alright, Loki! It cannot hurt you when I am around. I will not let it! You are my most important person, my bestest friend, and-and I will not let anyone or anything hurt you!”

“Promise?”

“Of course!” Thor exclaimed with a big smile that instantly had the younger boy relaxing.

_ Everything is gonna be ok, _ Loki thought as he wiggled as close as he could to his big brother,  _ Thor is gonna be here to protect me. _ “I trust you.”

“Good! Tell me what story Mama read to you before bed.”

Loki launched into a detailed explanation into the stories their mother had told him, recounting every last detail as accurately as he was able (which was pretty accurate, all things considering). He only stopped once he interrupted himself several times with his yawns and Thor was struggling to keep his eyes open, lulled by the sound of Loki’s happy voice and detailed storytelling.

“You can tell me the rest in the morning, you know…” Thor mumbled, running his hand through his brother’s soft hair, the blisters and cuts and scars in his hands catching on the fine strands. Already, he could tell that his hands were slowly, but surely, becoming more like their father’s and the other Alphas’ he had seen -rough and covered in the evidence of battle and hard labor- and wondered if Loki would mind that his hands were changing or would rather he not change at all. “I will protect you from the storm for now.”

The next crash of thunder and bolt of lightning caused Loki to do no more than tense, resting his head down on the pillow. He had untangled himself from Thor, putting space between their bodies, but he could feel Thor’s breath and his body heat, winding their hands together to ensure that Thor wouldn’t leave him -he kept on having nightmares lately about a cold, lonely place where everyone kept on leaving him to float mindlessly and alone- and to just feel the comforting weight of Thor’s hand. “Alright… I will tell you later…” Loki said sleepily, yawning for the hundredth time and snuggling into the pillow beneath his head with a small, content sigh, “G’night, Thor…”

“Sweet dreams, brother.”

“Mmmm-hmmm.”


	5. Age: 5 Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki, Thor and Odin go on their first trip together, to Vanaheim.

“Make sure you stay with Papa and Thor,” Frigga said as she adjusted the pack on his small shoulders and running her hand through his hair, “Be safe and remember your spells.”

“Yes, Mama,” the ravenette said, happy to let her fuss over him, “I promise to be careful. And bring you back something beautiful.”

“I will make sure he stays safe,” Odin cut in, gruffly, giving his wife a very put out look, “I kept Thor safe when he went out at this age, did I not?”

“That you did,” his queen conceded, cupping his bearded, aging face between her hands, “but Thor and Loki are different boys with different strengths. And weaknesses.”

“I know this.”

“We shall agree to disagree.”

“Mother, I will definitely protect Loki,” the seven year old said, yanking at his Mother’s skirts. He had adjusted his own pack before going over to his younger brother and pulling him into his side. “I have been training hard to make sure Loki will be safe,” Thor continued, demonstrating the new moves he learned from his fighting instructors.

“But I can protect myself…”

“Of course you can, darling!” Frigga hurriedly agreed, embracing him reassuringly, “But relying on others is, too, of great importance.”

“Alright, Mama.”

The queen kissed her boys goodbye on the Bifrost and watched them disappear with a heavy, anxious heart, hoping that they would come back in one piece.

* * *

 Vanaheim was a beautiful place and Loki was instantly breathless with his awe. It was a place much different than Asgard with the Vanir having built towns amidst vast forests --in and around the trees-- and roaming in family groups as nomads. The buildings that seemed out of place in the realm quickly being embraced by nature were the spiral structures and crumbling palaces that attempted to reach the sun. He was so overwhelmed with curiosity --the buildings were so odd amongst the forests and sprawling vallies-- he had to know their purpose.

“Excuse me, sir,” Loki called to a passing nomad, a rough, hairy man who smelled of fresh leaves and wild meadows but --beneath it all-- was the scent of _ALPHA;_ one so strong Loki didn’t even have to consciously breathe it in, “what are those buildings over there?”

“Loki --do not talk to strangers,” Odin growled, yanking his son away by the elbow.

“Ah, are you Aesir?” the man said with an amused chuckle, his family halting to wait for their patriarch, “I can tell by the clothes and the smell!”

“What is in those buildings?”

“The ruins are where the Vanir used to live before we moved back to nature. The tall spiral building is the House of Magic where promising sorcerers go to train and where various books are kept.”

“Papa, Mama said we have to go if we want to make it to Ogre’s Teeth before nightfall,” a young girl --no older than sixteen-- said, holding her pregnant belly as she waddled forward, “Oh my! What a cute little boy…!”

“They are Aesirs! Here for a quest, no doubt,” the man said with a wink as he helped his daughter into a wagon full of furs, “If you wish for a place to sleep, there is a tavern ten miles west of here! Good luck!”

“Thank you, sir!” Loki called with a wave as he was dragged away by his father, “Papa, that man was so nice, was he not?”

“Do not talk to strangers!” Odin snapped with a harsh concerned glare, “There are many that would do you harm!”

“But would it not be fun to learn about where they live? To make new friends?”

“That does sound fun…” Thor admitted, “but I much rather fight monsters and go hunting.”

“What are we hunting? Do we know?” Loki asked trailing along helplessly, unable to completely keep up with his father’s long legged strides and Thor’s excited trotting.

“That is all part of the adventure, my son! Going to some place new and exciting with no plan in mind…” Odin exclaimed, clapping his sons’ shoulders and making the smallest of them stumble, “We will listen to locals once we find some place to rest our heads. In the morning we shall continue to search for a creature worth our time.”

“Yes, Papa,” Loki said and, as they walked along a path worn by travelers, he began to talk about his lessons --what spells he had learned, the history of Asgard, his spellings and arithmetic-- and picking up plants that caught his attention, placing them in a cloth bag he hung around his waist, despite how his father kept on scolding him and pulling him back by his shirt. Thor, on the other hand, listened attentively --as attentively as he could, anyway-- and kept on asking curious questions, his lessons having not had anything to do with magic (his were similar but where Loki learned magic, the older boy was being prepped for kingship).

By the time they reached the tavern that the local had recommended, the sun was setting and Loki was whimpering with how his feet ached. The tavern was situated in a tall tree, a sign on the front informing them that they had reached the right place; they had to climb a ladder to get to the deck, the closer they got, the more noise they heard --and the more it increased in volume--until it came rushing out of the door as someone opened it. An elderly man dressed in silky fabrics of green and blue, with a wispy beard that reached his knees, stepped out, his cheeks flush with drink; but, he inclined his head to them politely before, with a flutter of his cape, he lurched off the deck, taking the form of a hawk and sailing through the air. Odin ushered his children inside quickly, but Loki still stared at the place where the man had stepped off the side of the deck, how easily he had changed into the form of a bird and had taken to it as if it were his true form.

The tavern was filled with creatures of all kinds, Vanir draped in colorful fabric and animal skin, nomads with the extra protection of leather hides; the most interesting of beings were those that were not Vanir nor Asgardians. Among the Vanir and nomads were large, hairy beings with large teeth and orange skin, and short, stocky creatures with little to no hair and drastic underbites. Curiosity bubbled in Loki’s chest as he looked at the beings he had never encountered and he couldn’t look away from the merrymaking. Everyone was laughing and drinking, a group of nomads were playing their hand crafted instruments and a beautiful, pale creature who seemed to be made entirely out of moonlight was dancing on a tabletop to a chorus of whistles and cheers, dressed in white, see through fabric with gold edging, bangles jingling around his ears, wrists and ankles.

“Stay by my side, boys,” Odin commanded as he led them to where the barkeep, a bulky man with a bald head, decorated with black, intricate designs, was having an animated discussion with a patron dressed entirely in black leathers, a black spotted, white fur shawl hanging haphazardly from her shoulders. Loki hardly heard him and barely acknowledged his father asking the barkeep for a room, entranced as he was by the orange, hairy man nursing a large pint of ale and laughing with his Vanir companion, a red headed man dressed in brown leathers and grey furs.

Not so subtly, the orange man’s companion noticed Loki’s intense stare, grinning and quite literally pointing Loki out to the orange man. Immediately, the orange man scowled and jerked around to bare his large canines in Loki’s direction. “W’you lookin’ at?” he snarled, irritated and grumpy, as his father was when woken up by Thor tossing himself on their parents’ bed. It was intimidating, nonetheless, and a little scary, but Loki was determined to make the man his friend. He didn’t believe the orange man was unkind, he had seen how he had taken great lengths to carefully curl his large hand around the glass, so it wouldn’t break, and how he always pulled back on his strength if he touched his Vanir friend. And, Loki had never seen a man like him before!

“Your skin is a pretty color,” Loki said matter-a-factly, remembering what his Mama taught him about how a compliment always made people happy and smile, “My Mama has flowers the same color.”

The orange man’s companion spit out his ale --ew!-- choking with laughter as the orange man’s face darkened in color. “Shut up!” he yelled at his companion, shoving him off the chair before he turned back to Loki with a small cough, “Err, thank you, little one. I am not often complimented on it.”

“I do not see why,” the little boy huffed, claiming the recently vacated seat without hesitation, his nose high in the air, “I have never seen someone that looks like you. Why?” Loki leaned in, giving the man a little sniff; he smelled nice: like warm, dark places and outside, but his _Alpha_ scent --something a bit spicy-- made it a bit odd. “You are an Alpha-- you know my Papa is an Alpha and everyone thinks my big brother is, too, but no one will know until he comes of age --Mama said so.”

The orange man smiled, amused by the pale boy’s chatter --was he Aesir? His clothes certainly didn’t appear to come from Vanaheim-- and handed him a sweet roll. “I am a troll. My kind prefer to live in the mountains or caves. The ones that look like me live here, in Vanaheim. The shorter ones like that” --he pointed to a short troll, one of the ones with a severe underbite-- “they are from--.”

“Brother, what are you doing?” Thor interrupted, pulling at his brother’s sleeve, “Father said not to talk to strangers…!”

“But he is my friend,” he said, licking the sweet glaze from his fingers before digging around in his pack, “Oh, this is my big brother!”

“Good evening,” the troll chuckled, shoving his companion onto the floor for a second time when the smoothed faced Vanir --which was a rarity-- began tugging at his leathers and makeshift armor, “You two on a quest?”

Thor only glared at the stranger who somehow managed to win over his little brother; Loki was always so nervous around strangers, so what made the troll so different?

“Yes, we are!” Loki cheerfully, if not a bit naively, informed as he took out a rather large book and a quill he had enchanted to never run out of ink, “Can you tell me about trolls again? I want to write it down so I can remember it!”

“How do you write without ink?” the troll asked in awe, mystified by the little boy going through the book’s index before turning to the page he desired.

At the question, the ravenette turned an adorable shade of pink --the troll had to fight the domestic instinct crawling at his throat, to settle down with children and mate-- before shyly admitting, “I… enchanted it so I would not need any…”

“Ah, it seems like we have a young sorcerer and scholar with us tonight!” the troll’s companion cheered, raising his pint in drunken celebration and calling Odin’s attention to his disobedient sons, “Finally there is new blood in your group of antiques!”

The Vanir dressed in draping, colorful fabric --much like the man who had changed into a bird outside the tavern-- laughed, raising their glasses and greeting the dark haired boy while the nomads jeered at the troll’s companion and threw hardened bread rolls at him. The Asgardian prince giggled, while his elder brother looked on in confusion and anger --he didn’t understand what was happening but he didn’t like so many people looking at _his_ younger brother-- but his amusement was cut short by his father.

“Loki, what did I tell you?” Odin snapped, gathering Loki beneath his arm, Thor following closely behind with Loki’s things, and hauled him up a crooked, narrow staircase.

“Papa, I--.”

“No, Loki,” he snarled, pushing the door to their room open with his shoulder, “I told you not to talk to strangers! What if he hurt you?”

“But he did not,” Loki insisted as he was dropped onto the bed --not as good as his bed at home but it would do-- “He is a troll” --Odin balked-- “and he was going to tell me stuff to write down in my book.”

“And who is to say he will give you accurate information?” the older man challenged as he got ready for bed, shedding off his clothes with aggressive motions, “Enough of this. You both should go to bed, we have to get up early tomorrow.” Loki pouted but didn’t continue to argue --knowing he wouldn’t win and he was starting to get sleepy-- and struggled into his night clothes.

“Wait, I want to sleep on the outside!” Thor insisted, yanking at his brother’s clothes --he thought that the troll looked frightening with his large teeth and odd skin and the blonde was terrified that he’d barge in and steal Loki away-- “Brother, you sleep between Father and me.”

The ravenette smiled, it had been so long since he’d slept surrounded by those he loved, snuggled between them, and the command distracted him from the harsh sting of his father’s disapproval. He willingly settled between the two, his eyelids drooping as he cuddled against his father, pressing his face to Odin’s ribs as Thor settled behind him, wrapping his arms around the younger boy’s waist. The bed was so warm and, although it wasn’t as comfortable as the one at home, he murmured a quiet “good night” and easily slid into a deep, dream filled sleep.

* * *

 ...He didn’t stay asleep for long, woken up by the combined volume of his father and brother snoring on either side of him. Loki laid awake for a long moment before crawling out of bed, carefully even though his father and brother were disturbingly heavy sleepers. Rummaging in the packs, Loki pulled out his book, quill and the bag full of plants he had collected on their journey, and hoped that the troll he had been talking to would still be there.

Once he had found his way back to the bar, which had mellowed out considerably as the hour grew later and the patrons consumed more drinks, he quickly found his troll friend talking to the pale, beautiful man that had been dancing on the tables earlier that night, his Vanir companion asleep on the table beside him, passed out from too much alcohol. “Excuse me!” Loki said as he weaved his way towards the troll, “Do you remember me? Can we talk again? I did not get a chance to write it down…”

The troll gave him a small smile in response, ruffling his soft, black hair with the utmost gentleness. “Of course, my friend! Take a seat,” he said, pushing aside his drunk, sleeping companion, “Bogdana, your Beta has drunk himself stupid! Collect him!”

The woman, who was dressed in black leathers with a black spotted, white fur shawl and had kept herself at the bar all night, quickly stood and walked up to them, showing no signs of intoxication. “Why did you let him drink so much?” she asked, her lip curling up in a sneer.

“I am not his Alpha,” the troll snidely remarked as Bogdana lifted the unconscious man into her arms without breaking a sweat, “that would be you, would it not?”

“Point taken.”

“Are you friends?” Loki asked, quill at the ready to write down anything that was said to him.

Bogdana shrugged, “We are in a hunting party and he is friends with this” --she gestured to the drooling male in her arms-- “fool… so I suppose.” Without waiting for Loki to respond, she turned on her heel and left the tavern, probably going to where they had set up camp for the night.

“She is not as friendly as most Vanir,” the pale man said with a mischievous glint in his eye and in his grin, “She was found crying inside a hollow tree and taken to the mountains, where she was raised by trolls.”

“And what is wrong with trolls?” the Asgardian boy asked, eyes scrunching up in confusion.

“Nothing if you like them rugged with sharp edges,” he replied, slowly trailing his fingers along the troll’s arm muscles, “Right, my love?”

The troll kissed the pale man’s knuckles, staring up at him adoringly. “Little one, this is my Omega, Skafloc,” the troll said as the Omega --smelling sugary sweet and floral-- tossed his hip length, white hair over his shoulder, arching his back like a cat and posturing smugly, revealing the giant teeth impressions of his bonding mark, set in the side of his neck, “he is an elf from Alfheim.”

“I have never been to that realm before,” Loki said, looking at the gorgeous creature in front of him with wide, awed eyes, “What is it like?”

“Beautiful, glowing, where everyone makes love and plays beneath the ever shining sun and bright moon,” Skafloc sighed wistfully, lifting a slender foot to teasingly caress the side of his Alpha’s face, giggling when the troll grabbed his calf and kissed the delicate bones of his ankle, “Ah, but I would travel beyond the cosmos to be with you.”

Loki chatted with them for hours, excitedly writing down everything they said and did. How Skafloc’s skin seemed to glow, to radiate, from the inside out, how he mercilessly teased his Alpha, fluttering around him and posturing like a bird proudly showing off its feathers, how he remained in contact with the troll through the exchange --not unlike Loki’s Mama and Papa. He tried to write down the descriptions of their homes with as much detail as he could, with his limited vocabulary and writing abilities. He wrote down how the troll’s --the young prince learned his name was Fell-- orange skin felt and looked, how he smelled, and tried to record as many of Fell’s childhood stories as he could.

The three of them talked until the night sky paled with the first signs of morning, Loki yawning and --somehow-- ending up curled up in the elf’s lap, cheek pressed up against his chest, the sheer fabric slightly rough against his skin; Skafloc, in turn, had his back pressed up against Fell’s broad chest, his well muscled arms circling him protectively. Bogdana entered, raising her eyebrows at the strange display. “What a domestic image you three make,” she said sarcastically, the barkeep pushing aside an unconscious, drunk Vanir nomad, “I did not know elves stole babes from their cradles.”

“Where is your Beta? Hungover?” the Omega teased, braiding the young Asgardian’s dark hair (what an odd coloring for an Asgardian, Skafloc thought). “Shall I brew something for him or do you prefer he suffer?”

“Let the man suffer. He may learn through pain.”

“You can brew potions? Do you know magic, too?” Loki asked, voice slurred with sleep.

“All elves can use some nature magic but I studied here on Vanaheim to apply that to potions,” he said before setting Loki on the ground, smoothing the wrinkles in the child’s night clothes, “Time for you to sleep. You are on a quest, mighty Asgardian, and they require rest.”

“Will you be here when I wake up?”

“I am afraid we must be on our way,” Fell said with a hearty pat on the boy’s shoulder, “Be careful and brave-- be smart most of all. That is something a sorcerer said to me once.”

“Here is a gift to remember us by…” the elf said with a soft smile, his palm shining with warm, white magic --Loki felt it, felt his own magic respond, and it was warm, comforting, like sunlight-- and a jar filled with a small bouquet of rare flowers that hummed with magic appeared. “These are moon-flowers found in my realm. Keep them safe until you reach Asgard and then plant them. You will learn their use eventually.”

“I-- thank you!” Loki whispered, a warm feeling spreading throughout his body. He was reminded of his Mama, the radiance of the epitome of Omega perfection, how they both glowed with their genuine care and affection, their kind indulgence.

“Off to bed with you,” Bogdana ordered, gruff as she accepted a pint from the barkeep and downed it, “or else we shall prove the nightmarish stories of trolls to be true.”

The boy went back to the room without fear, his heavy limbs begging him to rest.

“Loki…?” Thor mumbled, groggy, as he made his way back into bed, nuzzling into the blonde’s chest and wiggling beneath his father’s arm, “What are you doing?”

“I just made friends with an elf and a troll,” he whispered with an excited smile, despite his heavy tongue and limbs, sleep calling him like a mother. Loki wondered if he’d dream of ice and snow, mountains that scraped the sun and tall spirals bigger than anything on Asgard, of ruby colored eyes and large, loving faces looking down at his, cold on his skin but not chilling it. He closed his eyes and stopped his thinking; he wanted to tell his big brother about his friends. “They had such fun stories and had so many adventures! I wrote them all down.”

Thor shifted beside him, toes wiggling and pressing into his calves, despite his brother’s whining protests. “Father said not to talk to strangers. What if they hurt you?”

“It is alright, I knew they would not.”

“How?”

“I just did,” the younger boy said, smiling and cuddling closer to his brother, who shifted again; the blonde was restless, thinking of all the things that strange creature could have done to Loki --like taken him in the cover of night and eaten him!

He laid as still as he could muster and stared at his sleeping brother, the way his eyelashes moved against his cheeks, the way his dark hair --which always had some wave or curl --tangled on the neutral colored pillow cases. Loki was just so small and precious, he had to be protected from monsters and strangers and Thor would be the one to do it!

* * *

 In the morning, Loki curled up in a ball and wept over the tattered remains of his book, his book that had been wrapped with rich, warm leather with blank spaces filled with his neatest writing. He held the pieces tenderly, gathering them in his pack with the reverence of a devotee to his deity. Luckily, his gift of flowers from the beautiful Omega elf were safe and intact, hidden among his clothes and small knives --if they had been destroyed, he didn’t know what he’d do.

“...Enough, Loki,” Odin’s voice was loud in the tense silence of the room, his eldest son looking on with wide, disbelieving blue eyes, “The world is a dangerous, unfair place. You will understand someday, my son.”

He couldn’t speak, a heavy weight in his throat. Loki wanted to cry, to scream, but that was what got him here to begin with. All he could do was nod, fingers tracing the golden binding, the glittering scrawl of his Mother on one stray, torn piece of paper. “It was a symbol, Loki,” their father sounded almost desperate, imploring, and it was not something Loki had ever heard from the Alpha. His world cracked, shifted, beneath him once more. “I had to do this.”

A symbol? Loki didn’t understand what symbols --they were used in magic weren’t they? Why was his father bringing them up now? --had to do with his book… but his Papa had to be right. He had to have a good reason, Papa wouldn’t just destroy his favorite book, his treasure, without a good reason. Right? He was the Allfather, he knew everything, he was always right… wasn’t he?

"Yes, Papa.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I stopped and started this chapter a bunch of times and am still not completely happy with it, but let me know what you think in the comments


	6. Age: 6 Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor meets Sif but, unfortunately, Loki really, really hates her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so before we begin, I think I should clarify something about this AU (I hint at it in the story but I thought I'd clarify just in case). In this AU (which is Omegaverse) people don't know the second sex (so Alpha/Beta/Omega) of themselves or their children until puberty when people experience their first heat/rut. 
> 
> There's a conversation in this chapter that touches on this, but I just wanted to clarify in case there was confusion.

“I want you to be nice to her, boys,” Odin said, hand tightening on Loki’s shoulder as he fiddled with his training clothes, “No pranks. No tricks. No harmful Magic.”

“I never do bad magic!” Loki protested, hurt that his father would think that he would use his abilities to do harm, “Mama always says not to!”

“What your father means, my darling,” Frigga cut in, giving her mate a harsh look, “is that we must not let our emotions overcome us and affect our magic. Do you remember all those years ago when you were angry at a little girl and you made her disappear? You did not do it on purpose but you _did_ do it; we just do not want that to happen again.”

“But that was a long time ago, Mother,” Thor said, lagging behind and slouching in a way so undignified it made Loki giggle, “and he had no idea that he could do that! He is a lot better now!”

 _“Still,_ this girl is the daughter of a very old and very important friend. He is one of my greatest warriors and generals.”

“I do not see why we have to make friends with her, though,” Thor said, attempting to whisper to his brother but their father heard and he received a slap to the back of his head, accompanied by a warning growl, “What was that for?!”

“You will be king one day. You have to learn to interact with important people and be friends with those you rather not.”

“But that is forever away!” Thor whined; his younger brother, who never knew the pressures of being an heir and, from witnessing Thor’s dramatized struggle, did not wish to.

“Do not complain, Thor,” Frigga scolded, though it was softened by her hand gently petting his hair, “We must all do things we do not wish to. We must make the most out of what we have.”

“Mama, you are so smart,” Loki said, eyes full of awe and wonder as he latched onto her hand, “I bet you are the smartest in all the Nine Realms.”

His mother blushed, giggling in amusement as she scooped him up, twirled him around and peppered kisses on his face, which was just starting to shed his baby fat. “Oh, what a charmer my little prince is!”

“I want to do it, too!” Thor shouted and Frigga set her youngest down, ready to spin the considerably bigger Thor around, but she was surprised when he did not run to her; instead, he picked Loki up in his arms and spun him around as she had. They laughed and, though she was a bit surprised and, admittedly, a little hurt, it warmed her heart to see the two so close.

“Stop playing around,” Odin snapped, dragging the two boys away from each other, “We are almost there.”

The older boy huffed irritably, though Loki was easily cowed, and they continued the walk down the corridor and to the training yard in silence, Loki’s fingers entwined with Frigga’s. It was only a moment more before the sun warmed their faces as they made it to the training yard, warriors and guards training some distance away from where the nobles stood, Odin guiding Thor with a firm hand and Frigga gently pulling Loki alongside her.

“Ullinn, my old friend!” Odin greeted cheerfully, greeting the handsome, battle scarred Alpha in the close, friendly way brothers in arms so often did, “You are looking terrible as always!”

“At least I have two eyes to look at my reflection with,” he chuckled before parting to show off the girl standing beside him, “This is my daughter, Sif. I believe she is the same age as your boy?”

“Yes, I do believe so. Thor, come here!” He dragged the boy forward so that he faced the serious little girl with her blonde hair pulled back from her face, slightly taller than him but not by much. But that was expected. “This is my son, Thor. He is steadfastly approaching the age when he is ready to go into battle” —the king clapped his son on the shoulder extra hard and Thor did his best not to flinch— “and I think fighting against your little girl would do him some good.”

“Fantastic idea! Sif, what do you say?”

“I do not care either way,” she said, sticking her nose up in the air and Loki immediately didn’t like how she acted in front of his big brother, “it is not as if he could best me.”

“I will give it my all,” Thor said with a bright smile and a genuineness that took Sif aback quite obviously, she had turned a bright pink, “Ah, but I have never fought against a pretty girl before so we shall see.”

Sif turned an even brighter shade and the younger boy pouted. Why was she getting excited? Thor was saying that stuff to little girls more and more lately (he had told Loki that his tutors had told him to, that it would help him make friends that would benefit him in the future, that could turn out to be Omegas) so it wasn’t like she was special! Didn’t she know that? Loki saw his magic spark along his palms and he quickly curled his hands into fists and hid them behind his back, so that Mama wouldn’t see his magic.

Thor and Sif grabbed wooden training swords and faced off, faces schooled in determined scowls. “Brother, watch me best her!” the blonde boy shouted as, on Sif’s father’s count of three, they lunged. The arena was filled with the dull clatter of wooden swords, grunts of effort from them both as their golden hair swirled around their faces, darkening with sweat. Loki watched, absolutely enraptured, as his brother threw himself into the fight as he always did, blue eyes alight with the thrill of the fight, even if it was only sparring; it was obvious that Thor was built for fighting, that he was good at it, that he was a natural born warrior and would conquer the battlefield alongside their father.

“He is a fantastic learner,” he heard Ullinn say to their father, “he has such great potential.”

“He trains with the best,” Odin bragged, puffing his chest out with pride.

"It would be no surprise that he is an Alpha. For generations, the first born has been Alpha."

"My mate would scold me if she heard me presume the future, but I have no doubt. And your daughter?"

"My mate and I think she will be a Beta, even though Pyri has always wanted an Omega child."

"You can always try for another."

"I prefer the process of trying more than the end result, if I am being honest, old friend." 

The two Alphas chatted back and forth, trading taunts and teases with ease, and Loki eventually grew bored of them. He turned to his mother, who was watching the fight with an expressionless face; he knew something wasn’t right but didn’t know what it was —it was as if it were a silhouette in a body of water, there was just enough information missing for the answer to appear in front of him— it was negative regardless and Loki reached up. He clasped their hands together and kissed the back of her hand, rubbing his cheek against the smooth, warm skin of her inner wrist. Scenting her as best he could at his age. The Omega looked down at him, her surprised, wide eyed expression quickly softening as she caressed his face. “Yes, Loki, my darling?”

“I did not like the look on your face, Mama,” he admitted quietly, never hesitant to tell his mother anything but hesitant to allow any other to interrupt, no matter what or who had taken her eyes off of him. He guarded their time together like a dragon and he was not sure why. “You looked so far away…”

“I am sorry. Mama was being shown a vision,” she said vaguely, smiling kindly and pulling him against her skirts, holding him and stroking his hair, “What do you think of Lady Sif?”

He scrunched up his face, eyes darting over to the play sparing. His brother was doing amazing —like always —because his big brother was amazing in every possible way and so good at so many things. He was red faced and panting from the exercise, smiling and chuckling breathlessly. The little girl —Loki did not want to remember her name, burning from the inside out but didn’t understand why— Sif was unremarkable. Her blonde hair bounced behind her as she tried her best, face contorted into a serious expression but Loki couldn’t help but think she was ugly. She was just a girl! Loki shrugged, hiding his face in his mother’s skirts, keeping one eye on the movements of his brother --they lacked finesse and were choppy, but Loki saw them only as perfect-- and how he moved back and forth with Sif. “...I don’t know,” he lied, knowing that his mother would not like his true answer. He didn’t want to disappoint her, she always had such a sad look on her face when he disappointed her, like when he didn’t understand that he couldn’t take his father’s supper to feed a pack of stray dogs he found in the village.

“I was planning to visit Nidavellir, to obtain some magic items,” Frigga said at her son’s gloomy expression. She knew why, could plainly read the envy in his eyes as he watched his older brother’s attention so intensely focused on another. “I thought to bring you with me.”

“R-Really?!”

“Yes, of course. You are my apprentice,” she cooed, kneeling on the dirt of the training grounds to press loving kisses to his cheeks, just to hear him laugh, “Will you, darling?”

“Of course! I am so excited--!”

Loki’s excited exclamation was interrupted as a cry of pain came from the dueling children. He whipped his head around to see his brother standing victorious over Sif, who held her bleeding knuckles and purpling wrist. Thor was looking at Loki with an intensely proud look upon his face --he had felt such irritation and ire when Loki’s eyes and attention were drawn away from him by their mother and was ashamed… she was their mother-- and did not look back at Sif until Loki’s wide eyes met his. “You fought well, Lady Sif,” the prince said, offering his hand to the little girl, who struggled to hold in her tears and sniffles of pain, “I hope to fight side by side with you, one day.”

Her hazel eyes widened, her lips parting and her cheeks turning a bright red. It was a look little girls were starting to wear around Thor often as of late --Loki had noticed-- and she seemed tongue tied and dumbfounded --Loki couldn’t help but think she looked absolutely silly and stupid-- as she simply nodded, not speaking at all.

Thor turned back to his brother, wiping sweat from his brow and running over to him, hand clasping at where the younger boy’s neck met his shoulder and pulling him in to rub their cheeks together. Scenting him. “Did you see me, Loki?” he asked with a beaming smile that put the sun to shame, one that the dark haired boy couldn’t help but reflect to the best of his ability, “Did you see my victory?”

Sif scowled at him and Loki could only smile broadly. _See,_ he wanted to say, _look at how he runs to me, not you. Look at his eyes on me, not you. Never you. What could you offer my brother that I cannot?_ The younger boy beamed, “I did! Brother, you were brilliant!”

* * *

 Loki did not know what it was like to hate but he thought that the dark, heavy thing in his chest that, at times, clawed viciously at his breastbone for release, was as close to hate as he’d ever get. There was nothing else it could be: it felt too ugly. Whenever Thor would be by his side to see the new skills Loki had learned, his new magic, the new books he was reading, his new drawings, Sif often came along and prodded at his brother until Thor’s attention was drawn away from the dark haired boy and put on her. It was such a foreign feeling, the inadequacy and rejection that he often felt in the presence of others but never his big brother. Never Thor.

Most of all, he hated the look on her face.

She looked at Thor like he was the reason the sun shown, which was not unusual, and at Loki like he was a small beast that crawled out from its hiding place once the sun went down, which Loki wasn’t particularly unfamiliar with, but it never seemed important (Mama and Thor, Baldr, who was somehow related to Mama, and a handful of servants and guards made him feel like he was on equal footing with his brother, that he may have been different but he was still worth something in his own way). When she drew Thor’s eyes away from him, she seemed so satisfied with herself, as if she had won a battle Loki hadn’t known they were engaged in. As if she was hungrier for Thor’s attention and worthy of it, much more than Loki.

“Prince Thor and Lady Sif seem to have been getting closer recently…” he heard one of his Mama’s handmaidens say as they remade her bed and gathered her clothes to be washed. Mama had fallen asleep on the chaise by the window, a cat on her lap and by her shoulder, Loki’s head resting on her abdomen as he pretended to nap with her. She was recovering from her Heat, which had always left her tired (Mama had told him it was normal for Omegas and, when he had a mate, he had to keep that in mind and show patience and understanding).

“There might just be a betrothal in our future.”

“They do look good together.”

“Like two suns!”

“Look at you, waxing poetic. Gather the towels from the bath, child.”

They looked very similar, Loki acknowledged, with golden hair that easily picked up the sun’s light and reflected it. Was similarity what made them good together? Was that why Sif had looked at him --a prince!-- like she was superior? Because she looked so like Thor, when Loki, Thor’s own blood, looked so different? His pale skin and dark hair sticking out among rest of Asgard, who were lighter haired and golden skinned… Sif and Thor did look alike and Loki hated her all the more for it.

The dark thing almost overwhelmed him, but the newest passage he had read in an old, thickly bound book that spoke of the infamous realm of Nidavellir was one that caused his mind and breast to fill with color and anticipation, ideas swirling in his mind like the colors of the Bifrost. He knew exactly what he could do, what he could ask the talented Dwarves to make to him when Mama took him on their trip to Nidavellir. It was as perfect plan.

* * *

 Their father told Thor to spend more time with Sif, which the blonde insisted was the reason why he was spending lunch --when he usually ate with Loki on a grassy hill that overlooked the nearest town-- with Sif, eating on the same hill that the brothers had shared such fond memories. Instead of crying and screaming, which Loki had wanted to do, to give voice to the vicious thing that had started living inside him, the dark haired boy bit his lip and nodded, not even Thor’s hand in his hair and on the back of his neck helping quiet his raging emotions. “B-Bring my waterskin,” the young boy had insisted, “It has juice from Idunn’s apples in it. The both of you will like it.”

“Thank you, brother. You spoil me when I should be spoiling you!”

“Because I love you,” Loki responded without hesitation. It was true, he did love his big brother, who had been his support since he had been born. He got up to retrieve his waterskin, but paused to slip ground up herbs inside and mixed it around; Loki didn’t know how he would be able to execute this part of his plan, getting Sif to consume these tasteless herbs that would put her to sleep, but this would be good enough. They wouldn’t hurt her or Thor, which was the dark haired boy’s real concern, but it’d open the door for him to realize his real scheme.

Thor’s smile was like sunlight and the dark haired boy felt an almost crushing amount of guilt at fooling his beloved brother. But he had resolved himself to his plan, because he missed his brother’s attention more than anything else. Once his brother had left, Loki waited a few minutes before going to the place where his brother would be having lunch with the girl their parents wanted him to marry; he stayed in the shadows, remaining light on his feet and only fumbling a few times, which startled the people he walked by as they just noticed him. It was harder once he was outside, going around the royal stables. Biting his lip, he shifted into the form of a cat, not as quickly as his Mama could, but it was one of the easiest forms he could take, and began to trot up the hill. The grass was a new texture beneath his paws and his whiskers twitched with sensitivity, but it meant that he could duck under the fence with ease and no one would pay him any mind. There were always cats walking in or out of the castle, lying in any ray of sunshine despite what inconvenience it may pose to Asgardians. As a black and white cat, he crouched in the shade of a tree and watched with keener eyes and better ears as Sif and Thor ate lunch together. Sif had clearly just come from training, her blonde hair sticking to the back of her neck and forehead with sweat, but she still laughed loudly with Thor, eating the lunch with gusto. Thor joined in --it appeared neither one of them had very good table manners-- and they traded tales and jokes with enthusiasm.

“...Where is Loki at this time of day?” Sif asked, hesitant like the youngest prince may pop out of nowhere and join them. Her scowl was not well hidden.

“We usually eat lunch together but, since I’m with you, he will probably be eating with Mother or continuing his lessons. He’s so smart! His skill with magic is amazing, just like our Mother!”

“Magic is nothing but tricks! It is something only Omegas use!”

“And what is wrong with Omegas? Your Mother is an Omega and my Mother, Queen of Asgard, is an Omega,” Thor said, naive and afronted on his mother’s behalf. The rest of the realms’ opinions on Omegas slid off him, not his concern, and Loki felt a thrill of joy at how his older brother defended their Mother. Thor was a true warrior, a true knight, jumping to the defense of the Mother who loved them both so much and who they loved in return. “If Loki uses magic and he is an Alpha, I shall love my brother all the same! If he is an Omega, I shall love him all the same!”

“I had never thought of it that way…” Sif said, casting her eyes away in shame, her cheeks a rosy pink not just because of the sun. “I am sorry.”

“All is forgiven! As long as you remember what I said,” Thor said as he rummaged in his pack before pulling out Loki’s waterskin and passing it to the blonde girl, “Try this, it’s juice from Idunn’s apples.”

“Ah, thank you, Your Majesty!”

“Enough of that. We have trained and sparred together, we are friends, and I prefer my friends to call me by my name.”

“You are kind…” she said as she popped open the water skin and guzzled the juice, the golden liquid spilling from the corners of her mouth before handing it back to Thor.

Irritably, Loki’s tail twitch and he trapped it beneath his paws, licking at the bristling fur. He didn’t like Sif, at all, and it felt like everything she did was an assault to his eyes, a personal attack. Luckily enough, Thor drank his fill and they finally laid back against the grass and fell asleep. It was deep, Thor’s loud snores a great indication, and Loki quickly shifted so that he was no longer a cat, hands sweating with nervousness. It would be quick and easy, he told himself as he took out a pair of golden scissors and pressed them to Sif’s scalp, her golden locks almost perfectly matching the scissors. The dark feeling rose in him again, smothering him, and he felt an intense hatred for her and her hair. It was golden, like Thor’s, long and sleek and she would look like a dangerous warrior when she was older, like a lioness, if he allowed her to keep it. But he would not. He would not allow her to share something with Thor, something Loki himself could not.

_“Why do you hang around Prince Thor so much?” she had asked him once Thor was out of ear shot, having run to get them a few practice swords._

_“We are brothers.”_

_“You only irritate him. Imagine how he must feel, having to look at you every day! You are so small and pale and weak, your hair so dark. It is terrible!”_

Loki loved his brother, and this girl was a mockingbird, trying to fit herself into a nest she didn’t belong in. The dark, terrible thing sank into his bones and stilled his breath, aiding the movements of his hands as he cut off her hair in chunks, gathering the severed strands; once she had nothing but uneven, choppy strands close to her scalp, he took out the gift he had been given by a Dwarf in Nidavellir, shiny, black metal that looked like braids. He wove Sif’s severed hair into the black metal until it formed multiple small braids, attaching the clips into whatever hair he could find on her scalp; the incantation that Dwarf had told him was seared into his mind and he chanted it, urging his will into the spell and letting his desire be known in his mind’s eye even as he said the words in Dwarvish. Spell casting was almost easy now, as he simply had to say the right words and imagine what he wished to accomplish before his magic would tingle his fingers --as it was doing just then-- and act on his thoughts. Green magic slipped from his fingertips and into the metal braid, softening it until it was brown hair dark enough to be black, full and thick, but easily tangled. His fingers hovered over her eyebrows and they, too, turned into two dark slashes upon her tan face, her eyelashes joining the transformation. He did not think she looked terrible, if he were honest, but he knew that Sif would not share his opinion and that was what mattered. When Sif saw her own reflection, she’d see something ugly and unworthy of his brother.

As the spell ended and his magic faded, Loki grew dizzy. He had never used so much magic in such short a time and he stumbled over to the tree, struggling up its trunk and through its branches until he found a proper place to rest, just to rest his eyes, because he wanted to see Sif’s reaction when she woke up. 

...Alas, he was more tired than he thought because he quickly drifted off and was only woken by a shrill scream. He jolted up from his sleeping spot, looking toward where his brother and Sif had fallen asleep; the sight that greeted him made him grin. Sif was clutching a reflective bowl, tugging at her hair and rubbing at her eyebrows as if it would come off, her face in an ugly, twisted display of desperation and despair once she realized her hair was permanently a dark brown (not even Loki knew how to undo this, the Dwarves’ creations were powerful and they seemed like great secret keepers). She dropped what looked like a bowl, running back towards the palace and trying to keep her hair and face covered, while Thor only stared at her in silent shock.

Loki waited for the other shoe to drop for a while, for his father to bring the wrath of the Allfather down upon him, but nothing happened. Life continued on as normal and he finally was able to spend time with Thor, happily tagging along even if he wasn’t necessarily invited or appreciated by others (such as Thor’s tutors or the other warriors Thor’s age who were much bigger and stronger than Loki, but he still beat them a lot of the time by using his magic to compensate). His brother seemed happy enough, never turning him away and inviting to even more things, to make up for all the time they spent apart. At night, though, he would start to feel a little guilty, thinking about the way that Sif cried at the loss of her blonde hair, stroking the darkened strands possessively; he supposed it wasn’t fully her fault, as their Father had pushed her and Thor to spend time together for reasons that Loki did not understand (he knew it was related to marriage and mating, but he didn’t understand. Didn’t you have to love someone to do that? Thor didn’t  _ love  _ her). He was starting to think, now that he had Thor’s attention back on him, where it belonged, that he should get some kind of gift for Sif. Maybe. Perhaps. Well, it was sort of an idea, one that Loki didn’t take too seriously in the light of day when he was learning how to control his magic from his tutors and playing knights and dragons with his brother.But, all thoughts of showing Sif a sliver of kindness seemed to wither before his eyes as he saw his father accompanying Sif and hers. Loki had just finished his lessons for the day and was going to find his brother, to watch him diligently preparing for a life of honor and battle, and to trick him with an illusion of a large bird of prey, when he saw his father talking to the other Alpha and watching as Thor fought against Sif, who's now dark hair was pulled back in a plait. They exchanged blows cheerfully, but it was like nothing had happened! The tears made his vision watery but he held onto them as best he could, even though his bottom lip wobbled, his brows scrunched up and his throat thick. Hastily, he made his way to where they sparred, glaring with all the heat he could muster. If he were an Alpha, he’d growl at her and release all the smelly scents that made weaker Alphas cower in submission (he had seen his Father do it a few times, but didn’t know how it worked, exactly, since he couldn’t smell any of that yet, only the foulness of it).   


Sif met his eyes, her face falling into one of hatred and what Loki could only name as fear. She faltered and Thor gained the upper hand, striking her side with his training sword and knocking her to the ground with the force of the blow. 

“Ha, ha! Good work, my son!” the Allfather shouted as he slapped his Alpha friend on the shoulder good naturedly, “Perhaps another time, old friend! She has gotten much better.”

“Better enough to beat your heir?”

“Hardly, but there is no harm in trying,” he laughed as they both entered the field to praise and critique their children, Loki left behind to glare at the girl’s tense posture as she reconnected their eyes and glared right back.

“Oh, Loki! I did not see you! Were you watching me?”

Loki turned away, feeling brightness return to his chest and banish all the dark things that were suddenly lurking inside of him; his big brother’s eyes were on him again and that was all that mattered. He laughed, remembering Sif’s face as she saw her hair, her girly scream at nothing but her own reflection, and ran towards his brother’s dirty, triumphant form. “Yes, big brother, of course! Thor, you were brilliant!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I'm not totally happy with this but I was taking forever to figure out how to work this canon-story (Loki cutting off Sif's blonde hair and turning it brown) into my story. Let me know what you think in the comments and thank you for your patience.


End file.
